


A distinct lack of hallmark cards to describe the mutant experience

by Sotano



Series: Early Comics Canon [4]
Category: New Mutants (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, new mutants - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sotano/pseuds/Sotano
Summary: Charles' dying wish was that Magneto take care of the New Mutants. Erik promised him, but now he has to actually go through with it, and something is toying with his emotions. One mad idea, borne of a little too much of Charles' Scotch, might be so desperate as to actually work. Call it training wheels."Oh, and Charles?" Erik called back, hand on the door out of the Danger Room. Charles looked up, mildly surprised. "No one thinks I'm your fucking cousin."
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: Early Comics Canon [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010022
Comments: 27
Kudos: 63





	1. Drowning and learning to swim; in that order

**Author's Note:**

> Based on New Mutants #35 and the ensuing Headmaster Magneto phase

Charles' study was completely unchanged. Magneto had a paranoid fear that if he moved anything in here, the whole building might collapse around him. Charles' whole dream; so far as Erik Magnus Lehnsherr could be sure; was utterly dependent on the placement of the books on the fourth row of the third bookshelf. Erik knew this was all madness, of course, but so was everything else about the ridiculous situation he found himself in. He was barely through two weeks as a damnable schoolteacher and he was already seriously considering drinking himself to death.  
"How the hell did you ever do it, Charles? They're all so... _fragile_. One wrong step, and..."

The portrait looked down on him with a sort of knowing expression. "Fine. I concede that _perhaps_ your ungodly virtues of patience were also put to task in your relationship with me. But that's exactly the problem. I don't have your... I don't have _you_ , and we both know that's the only way this is going to--"

He stopped for a moment.

"I'm talking to a fucking painting," he said, in the dark.

The next night was much the same. The bottle was already open, in fact, so if anything it was _easier_.  
"It feels like I'm stumbling from one test to the next, barely having passed the last. And most of what I do manage is from your notes. I went to hell with Illyana, but I'm not convinced I did much good. The only thing I'm fairly sure I handled right was that I managed not to kill those men who attempted to assault Danielle. And, Charles, I really wanted to. I still want to."

He tugged at his tie. Before this, it had been ages since he'd worn a tie. He even went to his trial as a war criminal in full regalia; minus of course the helmet. 'Michael Xavier', though, Charles' _mysterious cousin_ , wore a suit. Even still, he couldn't be made to comply with a complete three-piece; too civilized and frankly too dangerously reminiscent of Charles. There was a whole closet upstairs he was terrified of raiding, full of clothes he fervently hoped were a size too small. He watched the painting again. Charles seemed to be waiting patiently. Erik could practically see him gesturing for Magneto to continue.

"There is a loud, very compelling part of my psyche that wants me to run. I told myself the other day that it might be better to be a coward than a betrayer. Just, open a window and throw myself out of it. It gets worse every time I have to talk to Sunspot or Cypher."

Erik crossed his legs, uncrossed them, and looked to the painting again, as if it would address his charge. It was a horrible likeness, really, in that it was very good, and frustratingly austere. Distant, just like Charles was now, and quite unreadable.

The next night he was visited by Emma Frost, like the Ghost of Christmas-can-get-fucked-I'm-Jewish. She was sitting in his chair. _His_ chair.  
"Drowning your sorrows?" she asked, and Erik felt little white lances of her power poking around in his brain. She lacked the gentle touch Charles had, and she was fairly easy to keep out. Erik swatted her advancing power away.  
"What do you want, White Queen?"  
"Mm, so _chivalrous_. Not even going to offer me a drink? I must say, how unlike your _reputation_."  
"I don't drink with my enemies."  
"No," she said, smiling with her perfect teeth, her perfect movie-star good looks. "Just the one."  
"Ha-ha, Frost. Get the hell out."

She mostly ignored him, and he downed the remainder of his glass. At least she got up out of the chair, but now she was circling him like a shark that had smelled blood.  
"The children's nightmares call out to me. They need the help of a telepath. I can fix this."

They need a responsible adult, Erik thought, well past the reach of Emma's powers. But, since they were so obviously _failing that_...  
"I'm not just letting you take them," Erik said. "I made a promise to protect them as if they were mine."  
"How _precious_ ," Emma drawled. "Because you've never broken a promise to Professor Xavier before."  
Magneto was in a mood to kick her out of the office but she turned away before he could. "Call me when you cave, darling," she said, closing the door behind her.

After another week, things had gotten drastically worse. "This can't continue," he told the painting. He wasn't even drunk. No, he was stone sober, but he intended to get very drunk indeed before sleeping, as if that would block out the children's nightmares.

Erik talked to Charles in his head all the time. He saw Xavier everywhere, and after a particularly bad interaction with Cannonball, he even molded Charles, just for one weak moment, out of the metal in the Danger Room. He was _way_ past the point of needing the drinks to call up Charles' ghost.

"Emma's making demands. If things get worse, I'll have to let her take the children. She's right, I can't help them like she can. The only reason I even know what's going on is that I'm _psychically sensitive_ , because of you. Again."  
He poured himself a glass. "Psychically sensitive, and able to block or even occasionally redirect the odd psychic attack, and I can feel when you're in my head, which I obviously haven't felt since you died, but none of that lets me fight back against this, Charles. Their tangle with the Beyonder has left them damaged. I _need you_. If I could just--"

He put the bottle down. "I could..."  
He put the glass down.

This was either going to be the idea that saved them all or the single most miserable, lonely thing Erik had done in his pathetic life.

Erik spent the next twenty hours locked inside Cerebro growing increasingly frustrated. He'd tried and failed to fix Cerebro before, but he'd never had this much purpose behind it. The students moped around the house, plagued by nightmares, and didn't particularly miss his presence. He flipped the switch again, and watched Cerebro light up; and felt the power run through new conduits. The panel in front of him gave off a successful reading, but there was nothing. Cerebro was still dark. Blasted thing, Erik thought. No respect for its _creator_.  
He touched the helmet wearily, and opened the entrance. It had been worth a shot.

Warlock, who had been squeezing himself through the massive steel door, stood now in his path.  
"Teacher!" he said enthusiastically. His mad, giant eyes bulged, and his shadowy form twisted upright. Erik was too sleep-deprived for this. "Self has been trying to get Teacher's attention. Self was wandering because Self-Friends are unwilling to spend time with Self. Self went to the Danger Room, where there is a man who says he must speak with Teacher. A very nice man. Self feels like this man is already Self-Friend."

Erik was only half paying attention until Warlock had explained in his way that there was an intruder in the X-Mansion. His frown darkened, his first thought was of the Beyonder.  
"Come, Warlock. Let's meet him, then."  
Down the hall and to the right. Magneto's long strides covered the way easily enough, with Warlock's odd loping way of movement following excitedly behind.  
The Danger Room was dark.  
"Show yourself," Erik called out, cautious. The Beyonder was, well, _beyond_ his ability to combat. Out of the shadows stepped a young man, and if it was the Beyonder, Erik didn't have the strength to care.  
"Oh God," he said.  
The man's face twinged in a sort of happy, lightly guilty expression.  
Erik took a step into the darkness, and his eyes adjusted. "Charles?"

"Sort of," he said. A fond, sad little smile played with his features that could only possibly be his.  
Four strides and he'd crossed the space. A tentative hand reached out to touch Charles' blue suit jacket.

The second his hand made contact with the solid fabric it was over. He pulled Charles in by a handful of it and kissed him. Charles kissed back for a moment, before making an alarmed noise and pushing back.  
"Erik, no. I'm not... I'm just a construct," he said. "You've been fiddling with Cerebro, haven't you? You were trying to access my stored data, my memories. That's all I am."  
"I don't care," Erik said honestly, and kissed Charles again.  
"Erik," Charles said, firmer this time. "We're not alone."

It was a much more convincing point. Erik turned around and saw Warlock had changed his shape and was watching them with those lopsided different sized eyes. "Self can show self out," he said, with that metallic, groaning voice.  
"It's getting late, lad," Erik said, separating himself from Charles with really only about half the embarrassment he ought to have felt.  
"Self doesn't sleep, but self will let Teacher and Teacher be."  
"And Warlock?" Erik called. "Best not to mention anything about this to the students."  
The Picasso-esque body nodded and warbled off.

"God bless him, but he's _terrifying_ ," Charles said fondly.  
"Charles, the absolute last thing I want to discuss right now is Warlock."  
"All right," Charles said, agreeable and comforting and everything Erik had missed so fucking dearly over the last couple months. "Let's start with why you made Cerebro conjure me up."

Oh. Yes, he supposed the Charles-apparition did deserve a bit of an explanation. "It wasn't supposed to do this. I wanted to wire Cerebro's memory through the console, so that I could just program it to take a few questions. I didn't mean to... to..."  
This looked _bad_ , didn't it?  
Charles just shook his head, amused and a little impressed. "You never do things by halves, eh, Magneto? Well, I'm here, now. Perhaps I can answer your questions."

The Danger Room reprogrammed itself into a park, and Charles gestured at a bench. Erik felt a bit like one of the students. Well, this was what he'd asked for, and more. He put his head in his hands.  
"Why did you think I could do this?"  
Charles looked thoughtful. "I'm afraid all my memories aren't here. Cerebro really just gets the general impression of my mind, and obviously I died and hadn't used the machine in a while. But I'm guessing the me that died asked you to take over the school, and honestly, Erik, I've always thought you could do this. Perhaps even better than me."  
Erik looked over to Charles with unveiled disbelief.  
"I'm serious. Take young Illyana, for example. Who better to help that girl fight her demons than you? All I could ever do for the girl was give her this place, and some friends. You, Erik? You can _understand_ her. Without the telepathy."  
"These kids, they're in trouble. And I can't do anything. I'm sorry, Charles, but you were wrong."

Charles frowned. "You're feeling hopeless. _Really_ hopeless."  
Magneto gave Charles his best withering look, given the circumstances. "Please. Of course I am."  
"All I can do is pick up on a bit of feedback from Cerebro; I can't access my powers. I'm just an echo. But I can feel something. An interference. Tomorrow, I'd like you to put Cerebro on and let it run some tests on you."  
"Tomorrow?"  
"You haven't slept in a day, old friend. Even without my powers, it's a bit obvious."

"I haven't slept in _months_. You weren't supposed to die, Charles. We were supposed to, I don't know. Reconcile, at least. That damned princess, Lilandra, said she could perhaps restore you, and I was weak enough to let her take your body, but it's been months now, and you were _dead_ , Charles. What. The _fuck_. Could you _possibly_ find funny about any of this."  
"No, it's just," Charles said, covering a smile, biting his lip to contain a laugh. "Good luck finding a Hallmark card for this. 'Sorry the real version of me died and was abducted by aliens, leaving you in charge of a school'. My _condolences_."

Erik paused, and looked at him. "Are you... younger?"  
"I think so," Charles said. "I'm not... _all there_ , as it were. A human brain is too complex to fit in any man-made computer, even with the full processing power of Cerebro. The only reason I'm as complete as I am is the Shi'ar tech in the Danger Room. Magneto, I think you had better sleep for now. Nothing looks quite so bad in the morning. Give me the details of what's going on, so that you can leave me running in the meantime."  
  
Magneto dutifully recounted in full the strange, horrible goings-on in the mansion. The nightmares the poor children had been having; the numerous incidents he'd already mishandled. Emma Frost. That human teacher who seemed a little on the nosy side. Charles listened patiently, only offering input when Magneto got caught up in a mistake he'd made, or to offer advice as to how to patch things up with some of the children.  
"All right, Erik," Charles finally said. "It sounds to me like we can handle this just fine between the two of us, given enough time and effort. I'm sorry you've been saddled with this responsibility at such a difficult time, but I can't help but feel that this was the right choice, as far as the real Charles would be concerned."

Magneto was struggling to agree, but that was neither here nor there. If Charles Xavier said it could be fixed, he could believe it even if he still felt a terrifying abyssal pull. Maybe Charles was right. Maybe he was just exhausted. He reluctantly got up. Upstairs, the master bedroom and more of dead Charles' things were waiting for him.

"Oh, and Charles?" Erik called back, hand on the door out of the Danger Room. Charles looked up, mildly surprised. "No one thinks I'm your fucking cousin."  
Charles laughed. It was a slightly false sound. A recreation of Erik's favorite sound in the world. It was almost enough, for a moment, and Erik left.

Emma's words rang in his head. _Call me when you cave_. Erik was there now. He was caving in. He could feel Charles' portrait boring holes in the back of his head. It was the middle of the night and he hadn't shaved in... Actually, he wasn't sure. Charles was right, there was something strange about this pull towards hopelessness: he wasn't usually this given to fatalism. Magneto was a man of action, damn it all, and yet every fiber in his being was telling him to give _in_.

He couldn't let Emma take the children. They weren't safe with her. He couldn't give in here, but there was something else. If this self-fulfilling prophecy of ruin needed to run its course, there was somewhere else Erik could be weak, where he wouldn't drag everyone else down with him.

The Danger Room was dark until he flipped a switch and the blue grid began to materialize, and shape itself into Charles' study. He had a strange sense of vertigo, having just come from there, stepping into a recreation. It added to the feeling that this was just a bad dream. Charles materialized along with the details of the room, as if he were part of the setting. He was leaning on his desk, and noticed Erik with a strange start, but didn't say anything as the bigger mutant approached.  
"Tell me you're you," Erik said, voice low.  
Charles watched him. "I won't do that."  
"Tell me you'd forgive me, then."  
"There's nothing he couldn't forgive from you."  
Erik kissed him. He put his hand to where he knew it fit perfectly, cradling the back of Charles' head. Magneto felt a strange sensation, like he was drowning, as Charles grew pliant.

Perhaps hitting rock bottom made everything go smoother. It felt like a weight had been lifted off Erik's shoulders. He was taking Charles' advice, taking a softer hand with the children. Commiserating rather than demanding. He was _getting through_ , as the echo of Charles so patronizingly put it. Cannonball's parents visited, but he handled it well, he told them a human-acceptable version of the truth, and told them his plan to help the boy, and they seemed satisfied. He even, horror of horrors, gave a few sparing words of _praise_ , every now and then.

"How do you keep from picking favorites?" Erik asked casually, as he did some busy work in the Danger Room.  
"That depends on who you've picked," Charles said.  
"Danielle and Illyana. Obviously."  
"Congratulations," Charles said mildly, "you've just singled out the members of the team who should be given more leadership opportunities."  
"Oh God, is that all it ever was with you?"  
Charles shrugged. "I call the shots as quickly as I make them up, Magneto. There's no guide book."  
"At any rate, I'm letting Dani keep the horse."  
"You got her a _horse_?"  
"She's a Valkyrie! It's _her_ horse. It's got wings."  
Charles muttered something under his breath that might have been _Jesus Christ_ , but really it was fine. No one was using the garage he'd let her convert into a stable, anyway. He tried not to think about the fact that 'Charles' didn't remember the Valkyrie thing. He didn't want to shatter the illusion.

The tests from Cerebro showed no psychic interference. Charles was puzzled, demanding to be left on overnight again to think on it. Erik agreed. He spent some time with the children, let them watch an atrocious cowboy film. The boys pantomimed along, which Rahne took exception to.  
"How the hell can you like this?" Rahne asked, folding her arms. "They're saying such horrible things about the Indians."  
"Rahne, c'mon, it's just a movie," Sam said.  
"You wouldn't say those things about Dani, would you?"  
Sam reddened. Magneto mentally added Rahne to his list of favorites as he watched from the sidelines.  
"No! Of course not. But this is just Cowboys and Indians. It's different. It's an American thing, I guess."  
"I can assure you," Magneto said from the kitchen counter. "Ignorance and bigotry are not unique to this country whatsoever."  
Rahne, glad to have their teacher on her side, redoubled her efforts. Dani never weighed in except to shush them; on the phone with her mother; but smiled privately at Rahne's convictions.  
Erik left them to check on Charles. Not-Charles.

"It's not psychic," Charles said, leafing through a file.  
"You're a fucking computer program and you're reading physical documents."  
Charles didn't look up. "Oh, this is just a little visual trick. I'm scouring the memory database. These pages are blank," he said, even as he lifted one up to look at the next.  
"If it's not mental manipulation, it's not Emma Frost."  
"That remains to be--Oh!"  
A blue grid of Danger Room projection appeared in Charles' hand, materializing into another file. He showed it to Erik.  
"Have you happened to see this young mutant around?"

Erik looked at the photograph. Nondescript young white boy, with a bit of a vacant, self-pleased smile. Could have been a million--wait. "Yes, actually. I think. At one of the local high school events."  
"He's one of Emma Frost's Hellions. An emotional manipulator, codename Empath."  
Erik frowned at Charles, who was already lost in thought. "You're saying he, what? Gave me _depression_?"  
"It's not so difficult, really. Block the pathways of serotonin to the brain, all that. But no, his powers are much more specific. He made you _hopeless_. He told you to be weak."  
This was the part where Charles tactfully avoided pointing out just how weak Erik had been.  
"How do I make sure it doesn't happen again?"  
"Now that it hasn't worked, I doubt Emma will try the same thing twice. There's not much that can be done except vigilance. I'm willing to bet you're not the only person Empath has tampered with. Warn the kids."  
Erik groaned. "I don't suppose there's a Hallmark card for _that_."

Magneto had been out with Warlock. He'd really come to get a sense for the sort-of-boy's moods, and Warlock loved company very dearly. So he'd agreed to help the boy with his project; a little garden on the mansion grounds. Warlock's odd limbs elongated to plant seeds in a row a few meters long, and Magneto did his best to explain what needed what. He couldn't help but think how much Charles would approve as he added Warlock to the rapidly growing list of the New Mutants he'd die for.

He wasn't, however, expecting to have that conviction put to the test quite so soon. Some kind of projectile came out of nowhere. He moved to shield Warlock, but they were both caught badly in the ensuing blast. Bright colors danced across Magneto's vision. Red, white, and blue.  
The damnable _Avengers_. Warlock was weakened.  
"Teacher," he said, unsure, metallic voice laden with static. All these life-glows nearby to recharge him. He had to lead the Avengers away.  
"It's all right, lad. Stay here." He threaded some of his own power through to Warlock to tide him over and flew off.

He made it about fifteen meters before running into Namor and Hercules. God, how many Avengers had they brought, exactly? To take down _one_ old man? Wasp distracted him and Namor laid him out with a hard downward strike. He hit the ground. Fighting to stay conscious, Magneto took what metal he could and flung Namor out of the fight, only to get his legs swept out from under him by what he had been _sure_ was a metal shield. Did Captain America have a special shield, just for fighting Magneto?

Hercules was above him in an instant. "Self will protect Teacher!" Warlock cried.  
If Warlock fought now, in his weakened state, he might kill the Avengers. Or they might kill him.  
"What the hell was that?" he heard Captain America cry out. Warlock's black form had expanded, knocking away a few of the Avengers, following them with sharp spears of living technology.  
"Stay away from him," Erik said, lifting himself between the two.  
"That thing just tried to kill us!"  
Magneto didn't really know how to de-escalate a fight. But he knew how to steal the limelight. "Warlock, forgive me," he said, and his powers tossed the poor lad back towards the mansion. He was in for a hard landing. Hercules pulled him into an armlock, and his knees hit the earth.  
"Magneto, you're under arrest."  
If he weren't so dizzy he'd laugh. "What for?"

Captain America frowned at that. "We've been told you've abducted students."  
Ah. Ms. Frost's signature. "I'm afraid I've put my villain days rather firmly behind me," Magneto said. "Abductions really aren't my style these days."  
"And you just expect me to believe that. To trust you."  
"You're fighting alongside fucking _Namor_."  
"Namor helped me in World War II, fighting Nazis," Captain America said.  
Oh, now Erik did laugh. "You don't know who you're talking to, do you? Charles really never did fully trust you people."

It was nice to know Charles Xavier never told the Avengers anything more than he had to about Erik. Then again, he thought, perhaps it was unsurprising.

"What are you talking about?"  
"Ask Namor."  
The fish bastard didn't even have the tact to look guilty.  
Hercules twisted his arm a bit painfully. "Where are the children?"  
"I haven't abducted any children, you muscle-bound oaf. I'm a teacher here, on what I should probably remind you is _private property_."  
"This is the X-Mansion," Captain America said.  
"It is," Magneto agreed. "And Charles left it to me in his will."  
The Captain exchanged a look with Wasp at that. "We were told his cousin was running the place."

Erik smiled, knowing there was blood on his teeth. "Michael Xavier," he said. "Pleased to meet you. Or, not so pleased, as the case may be."  
"Get away from our principal!" Illyana called out. Blue flame gave way to several of the New Mutants.  
  
Cannonball went straight for the Captain. _Good_ lad. Still, he couldn't have the children rake up any antagonism with the Avengers if they were going to be heroes in their own right soon. He used the momentary confusion to break free of Hercules.  
"That's enough," he said, calmly, pulling metal fence up and surrounding the Avengers with it. Well, except Wasp, who flew out of the way easily enough, but Erik had bigger fish to fry, including one who had just put him on the ground. Oh, it was _tempting_. He took a deep breath. "Thank you for your concern, Captain, but I think you and your friends had better leave. And think twice before you shoot next time, for God's sake."  
He scooped the non-flying Avengers up with the fence and flung them off the school grounds. The others would have to take care of their landing; Magneto had children to attend to. He looked around at the destroyed clearing, and remembered the joke Charles had uttered, dying. That weak, and still trying to comfort Erik. Say what you will about Charles Xavier and his X-Men, he'd said, but you can usually tell where they've _been_.  
Charles had died in a ruined garden.  
"Well," Erik said, shaking off the morbidity, as the children looked on. "I'd say Warlock has more space to plant, now."

This had to be his greatest challenge yet. He readjusted his tie, looked himself in the mirror, muttered _fuck it_ and went downstairs. The Danger Room booted up with a now eerie familiarity.  
"Charles," Erik said plaintively. "Help."  
The not-Professor looked him up and down once. "What's wrong?"  
"I promised to chaperone a dance."  
The slightly crackling laughter, a little recording-like, went on for just a bit too long.  
"I get it," Erik said. "I've learned my lessons with promises. From now on, you're all only going to get a _maybe_."  
"Oh my _God_ ," Charles said, calming down. He sighed, heartily amused.  
"That woman who keeps prodding me with questions is going to be there. The one who _knows I'm not your cousin_ , Charles."  
"Ah, well. It was the only way to put you in my will without any eyebrows raised. I'm sure she can assume what she likes."  
"What she _assumes_ , like everyone else on this planet, is that I'm the _absentee boyfriend_ you've rather irresponsibly saddled your students with. I had to really jump through hoops with Cannonball's hick parents, and I was reasonably sure they'd never even _heard_ of gay people before."  
"Well," Charles said. "We can start by fixing your tie."

Erik was thankful. Deeply so. But there was a part of him that really couldn't handle the younger-Charles getting into his personal space like this. It would be so _easy_.  
"Do you remember when you used to bring me jazz records? In Haifa?"  
Charles looked up. A strange little glitch passed over his face.  
"Sorry," Erik said. "Was that... should I--"  
"--I'm trying to decide if I should be honest or not. Charles clearly put a lot of value on those memories."  
"Stop talking like that."

Something about Charles softened. He finished doing Erik's tie properly, and patted it down. "I remember. It was an awful pretense, wasn't it?"  
Erik smiled. "Terrible. And _expensive_."  
"Neither of us is very subtle," Charles agreed. "Those were the days of much simpler plans. Show up at your flat with a bottle of scotch and the '54 Chet Baker that had finally made its way to the Mediterranean."  
"Get wasted and end up dancing."  
Charles shook his head.  
"You know," Erik continued, waving a hand, " _platonically_."  
"A perfectly normal thing for two completely normal male friends to do," he said, nodding as if it were very sensible. Whether or not it was, Erik enjoyed the memory. He could practically hear the music, and...  
That was perhaps enough, Erik thought. Before he got a little too... nostalgic? Foolish, would probably be accurate. None of this was right, he knew, but he was trying to find a place to draw a line. He straightened himself out.

"Speaking of dancing, Warlock wanted me to show him how. He's getting better at his human form. I passed him straight onto Danielle," he said. Charles was looking at him funny, though. "What? You can't possibly think that's in my wheelhouse. The high school has a dance instructor."  
Charles rolled his eyes. "No, you're quite right, he should learn with his fellow students. But it's very heteronormative of you," he said. "I'm surprised."  
Erik frowned. "Am I missing something?"  
"I don't know. Do you think he calls Douglas Self-Soul-Friend for _platonic_ reasons?"  
It was a fair point.

The dance went predictably horrendously, even with Charles' input, but the kids seemed to enjoy themselves. They also seemed to actually really like Erik, which was strange. They'd begun to more or less respect his wishes, and when Rahne had a nightmare, Dani and Sam had brought her straight to him. He held the tiny girl and comforted her, and wondered if this was how Charles felt. They were getting better in combat, too. Magma and Cannonball had started to get clever about how they could use their powers, and every so often now, they'd actually beat him. Things were going well, even if he did always feel like he was a little too close to losing his mind.

When Empath meddled with some of his students again, he turned a bit of a blind eye to their revenge, because it kept him from doing the same and worse. Charles would have understood. His memories mostly, reluctantly, agreed. Besides, as he pointed out when they returned, they hadn't killed him.  
"You're going to spoil them," Charles said fondly. "I always knew you'd be a pushover of a father figure."

Erik frowned at that, but he _had_ just bought Cypher a car. It wasn't his fault, the boy was the mutant version of _Bambi_. All the bullshit parenting books in the _world_ couldn't help him refuse the kid; and to be fair his mutation meant that he was a very good driver even if technically he wasn't quite finished getting his license. It was Charles' money, anyway.

If Magneto could pick a time and a place to go, he'd be hard put to find a better one than this. He was back to thinking about his original idea, when he'd just started out. How many paces to the nearest window?

"Oh, this is _fucked up_ ," Sam said.  
They were all in uniform, ready to practice in the Danger Room. The Danger Room that Erik had left running overnight again, because what if he needed Charles' advice about breakfast?  
"This is fucked all _kinds_ of directions." Doug folded his arms.  
"Children," Charles said mildly. "Language."

"Magneto," Dani said. "Why is there a Professor Xavier program in the Danger Room?"  
Erik sighed. "It's not as bad as it looks. I was just trying to get Cerebro working. I didn't mean for this to happen, but, well, it did, and I've been using it for advice."  
"And kissing!" Warlock added, just to be helpful. His head bobbed earnestly. There it goes; Erik thought with a strange tranquility; the last shred of my sanity.  
Illyana said something disparaging in Russian as quite a few heads turned to Warlock and doubled back on Magneto.  
"That was a misunderstanding," Charles said tactfully. "Magneto didn't know I wasn't the real Professor. A simple case of mistaken identity."  
Warlock's bug-eyes narrowed, and he seemed like he was about to speak, when Danielle thankfully interrupted. "All right," she said. "Teach? We should probably delete this."  
"What? Why?"  
"You don't see any problems with this? Ethically?"  
"Actually," Cypher said, "there could be some serious merit in this. Charles Xavier's the most experienced telepath in the world; his brain is unique. If this program is even _half_ \--"  
"--That's _so_ not the point, Doug."  
"We're not just shutting it down," Erik said.  
"Erik?" Charles asked calmly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I agree with Danielle. It's probably for the best if this data isn't around to be tampered with. And Lord knows you don't need my help now that you've handled everything with the Beyonder and Empath."

Erik shot him a quick _et-tu_ look, and looked back at the students.  
"Besides," Dani said quietly. "What if the Professor isn't dead?"  
"If he weren't dead, he'd be back by now," Erik answered honestly. "He knows I..."  
"Yeah," Danielle said, "but he's in _space_. Maybe things aren't so simple."  
"I know a bit about living in limbo," Illyana said. "This isn't healthy. The Professor is either dead or he isn't, but clinging on to the past like this? It's no good."  
"You're right, of course," Erik said. Charles just smiled neutrally, which was very unhelpful.  
"He doesn't seem _alive_ to you people?" Douglas said, frowning. "I mean, this is a _very_ convincing program. Is it really okay to shut him down? What if he's like--" Douglas stopped himself, but Erik caught the flashing glance to Warlock.  
"I'll store my new data somewhere," Charles offered. "That way, if Charles comes back, he can just pick it up."  
"God, telepaths are weird," Illyana said.  
"Quite," Charles agreed.  
Erik flashed Charles a look that asked: _all_ your new data?  
Charles tilted his head. A firm: yes, Erik, take this a little more seriously.  
Fair enough.

Erik had to be the one to shut Cerebro down, of course. It was only right.  
"Charles," he said. "You had better be alive out there."  
He wanted Charles to see the children, and how they were doing. He wanted Charles to be alive. He needed the fake Charles less, now, it was true; but he'd never stop needing Charles.

That night, Illyana called a meeting upstairs.  
"All right, gang," she said, grinning and cracking her knuckles. "We've got a Professor to find. Who wants to help send me to space?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of this is canon than you'd think, aka Cap really did say that about Namor to Magneto's face. Had the idea for some of this from the new era of comics where we've started to really get into the weirdness of telepathy. Also stole that line about Cypher being mutant Bambi from Giant Sized X-Men: Storm I thiiiiink


	2. A confluence of reasons and a girl who can portal through space

To his credit, Warlock had managed a quick explanation: that meteor was called the Magus, and it was his father. Oh, and it was currently in the very laborious process of killing Colossus. Erik's powers tossed the hulking X-Man out of harm's way at the last possible moment.  
"Prioritize protecting the students," he said as Colossus sailed past him. Actually, he thought better. With a flick of the wrist, he floated Colossus back to face him. "Where's your sister?"  
Colossus frowned, and shrugged.  
Erik looked around. "Danielle?"  
Dani and Sam exchanged a look.  
"What?" Erik asked with a warning tone. He blocked the Magus' swing at Nightcrawler with his powers, which lost him any hope of the element of surprise. Now that he was thinking of it, she hadn't been around the mansion all morning.  
"She's in space," Dani said, sounding vaguely guilty.  
"Space?" Erik asked. He managed to prevent himself from cursing as the Magus transformed, resisting Magneto's pull.  
Suddenly, the space around them warped and twisted. Erik's battle-honed, semi-paranoid alertness told him that only he and the New Mutants had been transported.

"What the hell just happened?" Cypher called.  
"We're in Limbo," Magneto answered. "Everyone to me."  
How's that for a field trip, eh, Charles?  
"This battlefield suits self," the Magus said. His voice was booming and strange, and Erik privately hoped Warlock would be one of those children that broke the cycle.  
Blue flame materialized at his periphery.  
"Illyana!" Rahne cried.  
Oh, good. The New Mutants' powerhouse. Now they could die as a team, Erik thought, oddly cheerful.  
"She's not alone," Sam added. The boy laughed, whooping, almost giddy, which was a strange sound in this demon realm, and then Erik saw why.

Professor Charles Xavier, quite unmistakable, held Illyana's hand.

There was a moment where Erik had to rationally contemplate the distinct possibility they'd all just died. That was Charles, after all. The eyebrows, the cheekbones, the long eyelashes and the kind eyes and the _bald fucking head_. Magneto knew he was stood perfectly still, like a deer in the headlights, way past the amount of time he'd allotted himself to be confused.  
"Something's wrong," Illyana said, shattering his paralysis. "Magus did something to the demons. They're out of my control."  
Charles took his quick, cool stock of the situation, as if this were just a Tuesday in the office for the great Professor X, and nodded.  
"Illyana, take the New Mutants and quell the uprising. Erik and I will hold off the Magus. Cypher, Warlock, with us."  
The children nodded and fell into formation and chaos exploded throughout Limbo. The Magus was vast; a totally different beast to Warlock.

Charles' hand went to his brow; and Erik was just psychically sensitive enough to grasp what he was doing. As per usual, Charles was picking the biggest, ugliest, cruelest man at the barfight and finding the right combination of words to make him want to beat Charles to death. Which meant it was Magneto's job to push Charles out of the way of the ensuing blast. They came up dusted but unharmed, while Charles tangled the Magus' mental attention up away from the children.

"Charles," Erik said, clutching his friend with a breathless, bemused confusion. "You look great."  
"Erik," Charles replied warmly. His watery smile gave way to a slight frown, though. "You look like shit."

Magneto shrugged. "You should have warned me about the dangers of schoolteaching."  
"Yes, I suppose it is a dangerous career compared to being a regular on every international Wanted list."  
"I'm not dignifying that with a response," Erik said. He reached out and pulled Charles in by the back of his neck. God, the worst part was that he could tell. It was different. It was so much infinitely _better_ , kissing Charles.  
And yet, just like the fucking program, Charles pulled away first. Was Erik losing his touch? Not by the expression on Charles' face. The telepath's eyes, however, flickered behind him. Oh, that was right. The whole... Warlock thing. Again.  
Magneto turned. The Magus was drawing up again; body all monstrous horror. Erik couldn't tell where the metal ended and the organics began, but when he pulled it pulled back.

"Get Cypher and I into the Magus' body. We're going to do a bit of impromptu programming."  
Erik nodded.

Once Charles had a plan, the rest of the fight was just a formality. Not that the plan went off without a hitch; this was the _X-Men_ , after all; but the Magus was outclassed when Illyana regained control of Limbo and he had to face the full roster. The team were _very_ protective of Warlock, and Charles had a particularly forceful disdain for the more abusive parents of his schoolchildren. They tossed the Magus; reverted to a weak, blank state; back out into space and dusted their hands of the matter.

Illyana, back in full control of her powers, took them all home to the X-Mansion's living room. She explained that she'd gone to look for Charles.  
"I'm sorry to have left you, children," Charles said, after quite the round of hugs. "But it looks like you've been in very capable hands."  
"We're just happy you're not really gone," Dani said. "What _took you_?"  
"Well," Charles said, kneeling as Rahne squished his face. "Space politics, for one. And a team of pirates. I had a few debts to settle for my resurrection. But I was always planning on coming home."  
"Your students have missed you," Erik said, arms folded, keeping what he was sure must be a straight face. "I've done my best to keep them literate."  
Charles looked up at him with a radiant smile. His powers conveyed a deep gratitude.  
"I'm sure. On a steady diet of revolutionary manifestos."  
"We read _Das Kapital_ ," Rahne supplied.  
"Oh, good," Charles said, scooping her up. "Paired with plenty of sugary cereal, I hope."

Danielle helped fill Charles in, and the other students occasionally chipped in to add sound effects or effuse about how 'cool' Magneto had been about things he was now assuming he was not supposed to have been cool about. Rahne was nodding off, after climbing all over the very obliging Professor. She yawned and held out her arms, so Erik pulled her up to carry her for a moment without thinking.  
"It's late, children," Erik said. "And that business with the Magus was draining. Off to bed, now."  
The children grumbled a little but they were assuaged with the promise of tomorrow morning to continue any discussions over pancakes.  
"Bed time," he told Rahne, setting her down.  
"Yes, da," Rahne mumbled, half asleep.  
The poor little wolf girl didn't even notice her mistake, but Charles' billion-megawatt smile certainly did. Erik tried to shoot him a stern glance but he was sure it came off wrong. A glance to the mirror confirmed that he wa reddening.  
* _Oh, Moira is going to_ hate _this_ ,* Charles said in the back of his mind, insufferably pleased.  
Dani took Rahne's hand and nodded back at Magneto. Once the children had gone to their rooms, Erik turned back to the telepath.  
"You make pancakes now," Charles said, shaking his head. It was the same amazed, fond shake the Danger Room program had done, yet somehow infinitely more charming.  
"You're a space pirate. Circumstances change."

\------------------------

"We had better..." Charles said, gesturing towards his study. Their study? Had Erik been using it? He pictured Magneto at the desk, and fell a little bit in love with the image. "Talk."  
Magneto just nodded, making a little after-you gesture, and it turned out that he'd changed nothing about the study whatsoever. Although, the photograph on the desk; of Charles, Erik, and Gabrielle smiling easily outside the hospital; had been turned facedown. Books littered the desk a little more haphazardly than they usually might have. Oh, and almost all the Scotch was gone. He looked at the empty bottles on the table and looked back at Erik.  
"You've gone through a good couple thousand dollars' worth of alcohol."  
"It's not my fault you have so much of the expensive stuff lying around. This is supposed to be a school, for God's sake."  
Charles laughed softly. He'd missed this so much. The pervasive warmth, the odd, muted nostalgia of their hushed conversations. None of that in space. Charles moved a particularly boring tome on evolutionary anthropology, revealing a final modest bottle. He poured them both glasses.  
"I keep it amongst the books, in my office, Erik. Not a single student has touched it yet."  
"A kind way of saying your students won't read to save their lives. Well, at any rate. If you have a problem with that bill, you'd better have a drink before I tell you about the rest."  
"I noticed some rather extensive renovations," Charles said, grinning.  
"Thank the fucking Avengers," Erik said. "Or don't. Namor planted his fist quite firmly in my jaw, and Warlock made a garden out of the ensuing rubble. Poetic, really."

Magneto rubbed the right side of his jaw absently as he spoke, and Charles' face transformed into concern. He could feel it happening, but he really was powerless to stop it. "You fought them to protect Warlock. To protect all of the children."  
"I promised you," Erik said simply, as if that explained it all.  
As if it explained why Magneto looked like a fucking wreck, why he'd taken hits to the face and the pride from Avengers, why he'd walked into literal hell for Illyana, why he'd helped each of the children grow and stay safe. Charles kissed him sweetly; the easiest thing in the world. Erik's body heat felt solid against him.

They had their foreheads together for a moment before Erik seemed to have had enough. Charles felt the legs swept out from under him as he was pulled up onto the desk, and Magneto kissed him properly. "God, yes," Erik murmured. Charles got a bit carried away before he remembered there was something he was supposed to have mentioned, but the idea of Magneto, here, properly with him...

He shook his head clear, and Erik's face schooled itself into something resembling patience.  
"I'm--I think--technically married to Lilandra. I don't quite understand the, ah, legalism."  
Erik eyed him.  
How could he always seem to do this? Putting Charles on the back foot like this. Every damn time. "Apparently we're, er, _soulmates_. According to ancient... alien... prophecy. I'm sorry, are you at all listening?"  
"Moira, Gabrielle, Amelia. Now a space princess."  
Charles knew he was reddening. _Damn it_. Erik walked towards him, calm like the eye of a storm. He loomed impressively, all impassive stoicism, until it broke into a knowing smile.  
"How many more beautiful women am I going to have to steal you from?"

Erik's hands were on him, a thumb pulling insistently at his chin as Erik kissed him to keep the last word. The hands were always a weak point for Charles. Actually, Magneto was mostly made up of weak points for Charles; a fact which Lilandra knew well. Soulmates, apparently, meant very little to the telepath compared to whatever infernal arrangement existed between himself and Erik. Magneto paused to watch him, and Charles' skin felt like a current had run through it and been broken.  
"Do you tell her you love her?" Erik asked.  
Charles considered it. Considered telling Magneto that, actually, he was very in love with Lilandra, and being some sort of royal space consort, thank you very much. We call each other _beloved_ and regularly fuck. If he could just barely sell it, at least enough to get the point across. His traitorous eyes flicked down to Erik's lips before he could make the sentence out, though, and Erik kissed him again because that was enough of an answer.

"I suppose it is a little beyond belief," Erik said, so self-assured it was almost aggravating.  
"I... care about her. And I wanted to do right by her. She loves me," Charles said, guilty. "A bit. In an alien-princess way I don't fully understand."  
"You care about everyone. All I'm gathering so far is that you're two parts pet, one part boyfriend to some space woman who regularly wears a lot of metal clothing."  
Charles shrugged. "She knows about..." he trailed off, gesturing towards Erik vaguely.  
"About how you'll never stop wanting me," Erik supplied, mocking.

Charles rolled his eyes, disentangling them. "About how my attraction to women is purely a product of my powers, and how I've got a longstanding, mostly unspoken agreement with my supposed arch-nemesis that it's better for other people if we don't see them. At least, not to any degree of seriousness." He poured himself a second drink as he spoke, taking Erik's outstretched cup as well.

"About that," Erik said, taking the drink and knocking it back with a too-much-recent-practice motion.  
"Oh please," Charles said. "I know about the _sea captain_. We're both growing less convincing by the day. Tell me you fucked her just once and I'll eat your helmet."

"No," Erik said. "But I might have fucked a holoprogram of you."

Charles choked.

It took him a few moments to compose himself; wiping his mouth dry of the wasted Scotch with his sleeve. "Sorry," Charles began, coughing, reddened beyond belief, " _what?_ "  
"I really can't get into it. I was in a... a bad way. I don't know how much you've been told, Charles, but the beginning was a bit... rough. You'd better just put on Cerebro for a moment."  
"Ah," Charles said, as understanding dawned a little. "You screwed around with _Cerebro_ , and something unexpected happened. That makes--oh God, you _literally_ screwed around with Cerebro."  
"Just put on the damn helmet, Charles. This is all your fault, at any rate."

The telepath's eyebrows shot up, which had the desired effect. Erik backpedalled. "Well," he said. "You know. There was some involvement with Empath. You were gone. Things weren't so clear-cut."  
Magneto struggled with grey area. It made him unpredictable. Charles supposed he was similar, in many ways. They made their way downstairs, and Charles put on the damn helmet.

It was an odd sensation; retrieving Cerebro's memories. It came to him like data parceled within the Cerebro system, as if he were picking up the memories of a real person, except that person was him. It was like he was his own voyeur, or his own bodysnatcher. And the memories were all wrong. The tactile reality just wasn't there. He was reminded of a dream. There was a passive quality to them.

Still, they integrated seamlessly enough, and Charles understood a bit better now what had been happening. The beginning bit was painful. Magneto, utterly unraveled, desperate. Charles should have been there. Someone should have been there, for Erik. Though, he supposed that in a sense, someone was. He found himself agreeing with his echo, found himself giving way to Magneto's grief and terror. Letting Magneto put his hands on him and fall. And it wasn't all painful. What came next was better. Watching Erik recover, watching him learn to care for each of the children in turn. Watching him stumble, and seeing how badly he'd missed Erik reflected back at him like a mirror image, but the _pride_ in Erik's eyes, when he described Rahne's improved control, or Dani's grades at school.

When the memories had caught up, Charles felt oddly hollow. He'd cried a little, under the helmet, but he didn't realize until it was over. He turned to Erik, who was trying and failing to conceal a rather profound disquiet.  
How could Charles have ever left him? Even in death? Erik was so... was...  
"Hallmark cards," Erik said, after a moment of silence. Strangely enough, Charles knew it was another of their million inside jokes, built up over an obscenely long familiarity. "I don't know how to apologize for this," Magneto admitted uneasily.  
"How to--Erik, I was the one who _left_ , Jesus Christ, I should be _begging_ for your forgiveness."  
"You couldn't help dying."  
"I could have found a way to come back from Shiar space earlier. You're--you mean--"  
_Fuck it_ , Charles thought, and kissed him.

Erik was surprised, which was nice, but he wasn't far behind. Within seconds there were hands going further even than they'd managed in the study, unbuttoning with a kind of concerning urgency. Erik's tongue traced his teeth like he was fucking _confirming_ something; the hypothesis of Charles' continued existence, perhaps. Still, he groaned, and they fell gracelessly onto the metal floor.  
"There's a bed three floors up," Charles pointed out.  
"I don't care," Erik said, undoing Charles' belt.  
"There's delicate machinery in here."  
"I really don't fucking care," Erik said.

Charles opened his mouth again, and Erik pulled up, supporting his weight on the two hands that boxed Charles in.  
"Charles, I've only very recently learned that you're alive and I've been thinking about literally nothing besides this for the last two hours; during which time we've chased each other about the house putting our affairs in order. The kids are asleep; we talked about the girlfriends we're both so utterly shit at keeping; you've got your memories; Warlock's father has been soundly defeated, there is no frustratingly responsible thing you can _possibly_ \--"  
"--I love you," Charles blurted out. Erik blinked away confusion and something else. "I missed you. And I want you very badly but I'm guessing you don't keep anything that would be helpful on your person."

Erik paused, and then let loose a string of curses in several languages.  
Finally, he stood, and offered an arm down to Charles. The telepath clasped it, as if they were, what, two decades younger? Fooling around in bars, instigating fights with drunken xenophobes because Charles couldn't let anything slide when it was happening to anyone but himself, and Erik enjoyed the violence a little too much?  
Erik pulled him all the way up, right back against him, and kissed him again, arms around Charles' waist. His hand traced under Charles' shirt as if that would somehow change their material circumstances.

Erik's eyebrows raised at Charles' chest, a little more muscular than he was expecting. The result of a more active than usual stint as a space pirate. Charles could have responded with something trite, in the way that he sometimes did to subtly maintain control of their little, ah, _meetings_ ; but it was too late. He was in Magneto's head enough to feel a forceful downward spiral of heat that derailed both of their trains of thought. The careening detour threw Charles into Magneto's mind.

It was as if they'd traded places, when Charles had died. Before, Erik had returned to Charles' side because Charles had been weakened, both physically and in his powers, and needed Erik's strength fearing a return of the Beyonder. Charles had died in his arms looking frail; nigh-on emaciated. Now, Erik had spent some time being sapped away at by the Beyonder, and by Empath, and the strain of a job he was so unbelievably unsuited to as to be probably criminal. And here Charles was, with the rescue.  
"I don't know what part of this you think resembles rescue," Charles said. "But now I'm very concerned about what you're teaching the kids."  
Erik laughed softly.  
"Don't worry, this isn't on the training regiment for the X-Men."  
"One hopes not, but what conclusions is one to draw from the Danger Room program?"  
"Never going to live this one down, am I?" Erik asked.  
"Not a chance," Charles replied easily. Almost before Erik had finished asking, but, telepath.

They went up towards Charles' room, another place he knew Erik had been using, and it was a strangely pleasant thought.  
"Is there anything else I should know?" Charles asked as they reached the main stairs. Erik looked up, made a counting motion on his fingers.  
"Storm tells me there's trouble brewing with the Hellfire Club. I've taken some steps towards patching things up with Frost, but I think she'd better learn we've got a telepath back in play. You're fucking _insufferably_ wealthy, but I've managed to put a decent dent in your yearly budget."  
"We're in _March_."  
"Charles, do you have any idea how expensive it is to maintain a _flying horse_?"

Charles felt so light his heart could burst, honestly, but no. He didn't have the faintest clue how expensive a flying horse was. Two steps above Erik, he turned on his heels and kissed down, for once.  
Erik held him for a moment.  
* _I'm surprised you're not more worried about the students seeing us_ ,* Erik voiced in his mind. Charles picked it up effortlessly.  
* _You're the one who let that particular cat out of the bag for good, but they're asleep, and you keep distracting me with all your responsible, sensible talk of running the school._ *  
Magneto's eyes flickered amusement at Charles' admission that he was getting perhaps a little too much enjoyment out of Erik's whole Headmaster act, but he didn't press it. Instead, his head sunk into Charles' chest for a moment, as if he had become suddenly weary.

At Charles' bedroom, Magneto closed the door behind them, but he quite uncharacteristically paused.  
"Why did you decide to come back?" he asked, just barely not meeting Charles' eyes. His thoughts were guarded _just so_ , and Charles would have to have put in actual effort to read them. Which, he usually wasn't prepared to do unless invited.  
"I--" Charles caught himself. He had been about to lie. "I'm not sure. A confluence of reasons, I think. It's not that I didn't--that is, you really did seem to have things to hand. I know I could have stayed, settled my debts. Perhaps one day that will come back to haunt me. But I can't walk away. I don't know if it's you or the school, probably both. It's just that my place is here. Illyana was so happy to see me, and I..."

Erik nodded. "I wouldn't have understood that, a year ago."  
Charles sensed a but coming, and he suddenly felt a decade older.  
"Everything I've done, I've done for them," Erik said. "Even the things people find monstrous."  
"I know."  
"I still think my side of things is necessary."  
"I know."  
"I'm not leaving."  
"I kno--"  
Charles' mouth snapped shut, his eyes came to Magneto's. A confused frown formed from his resigned expression. It didn't process right, and then Erik had closed the space between them, kissing Charles. The telepath made a startled noise. He'd perhaps meant to speak, but thought better of it. Nothing could be allowed to shatter whatever ridiculous luck had set them on this path instead. So Charles grinned and thought about pancakes in the morning and the world's strangest school. He thought (and felt Erik heartily disagree) that perhaps _Michael Xavier_ wasn't such a stupid idea after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles Xavier would simply not choose to stay in space with the Starjammers rip to canon but I'm different. In fairness, even Lilandra was surprised he didn't go back the second Illyana showed up.


End file.
